It was just obvious. Everyone else got a jolly fat guy in a red suit delivering toys. We got eight days of leftovers. Everyone else got chocolate bunnies and Easter egg hunts. We got to fast.

Clearly, being Jewish was the short end of the stick.

Back then, my entire understanding of my Jewishness came from what I'd been taught about our history, which could be summed up like this: The Nazis were bad, they tried to kill us, we survived, so we're Jewish.

This is a problematic definition. It's like defining cats as being chased by dogs. It says nothing about what it means to be a cat.

Worse, it could be adapted for any parental purpose. The Nazis were bad, they tried to kill us, we survived, so do the dishes. Nazis were bad, we survived, be nice to your sister. Nazis bad, pass the salt.